


Push Me, Pull You!

by millygal



Category: Firefly
Genre: M/M, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 17:52:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10622055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: Simon's done letting Jayne have the last word!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to the lovely stir_of_echoes for cheerleading and making sure I was in the right Firefly brain place :)
> 
> Thanks to the wondrous selenic76 for her prompt, which she blatantly must have known I'd grasp hold of the NC-17 Simon/Jayne aspect and run like the wind with it ;) I hope this is something like what you wanted honey.

Jayne's eyes, his ridiculously intelligent eyes, swing in a torturously slow arc, landing square on Simon's flaming face; all red and blotchy, memories of things best left behind the curtain clear and plain as day and written all over, "Come on Doc, show us what ya got, I **know** you can cuss, I've heard you more'n once!"

Simon sighs heavily, slumps back in his seat, knees slamming hard against the underside of their rickety kitchen table. _Don't do it Tam, it's not worth the back and forth, and what that back and forth might spew into the now!_

He never could stand down from a fight, even if that fight was with himself, "When exactly have _you_ heard me swear?"

That's it, that's the very moment Simon knows he's got to put up or shut up and he's just given the one man in all the 'verses who _can_ , the rope long enough to hang them both.

Jayne watches Simon's fears and fevered memories flash across his ever too expressive face and he knows he's got the younger man, got him between the cross hairs. It's just a case of whether or not he wants to take the shot, "Really, **Doc** , you _really_ want me t'share with the class? Maybe they'd learn a thing or two 'bout how it's done out on the central planets, hey?"

Mal watches his two crew-mates facing down the barrel and he's not sure if he really wants to know what it'd take to make one of them pull the trigger, but he's too curious to see how Simon copes with Jayne's unique form of setting his cap.

That's what it is all right, because unless he's beating it out of you, unless he's got a hold of your innards and he's shoving them in your face, he's not really out for a fight, he's out for something much more dangerous; a reaction.

A reaction off of Simon could spell the end of the very fragile peace they've got surrounding them.

What's left of the ship's crew is all but dead on their feet after Miranda, and Zoe's barely keeping a handle on her temper most days. Then again, they tell that hormones will do that to a woman, and she's certainly got a bolt load of those zipping round her system.

Eyes flitting left, he spots Zoe's hand hovering over her swollen belly, as if she's not sure whether she should be touching it or not. A constant reminder of what she's lost, the baby is both a blessing and a curse, one her captain thinks she thinks she doesn't deserve.

All the times she hammered Wash about having a little'n and now she's carrying his child and he won't be here to see it come into whatever world they land on when she's ready to drop.

Even Mal, the man with a decent handle on anything remotely resembling an emotion, can't help the sting in the back of his throat when he thinks on how beautiful that child's going to be. How truly amazing it'll be to have a small one running under foot.

For Zoe's part, she knows exactly what Simon's trying so desperately to stop Jayne saying, because it will devastate little Kaylee, but there's nothing more important to her right now than the feel of that tiny heart beat pumping within her tummy. So she tilts her head at Mal and shrugs. Clear as anything, she's saying, "Not my problem, Sir. Your crew, your fix."

Jayne's not beyond feeling sorry for the girl sat with her head hanging low, hair falling over her huge kitten eyes, which he's completely sure are filled with the beginnings of harsh tears, but it's been an age since he felt hot flesh up against his cold heart and he's on the verge of ragging Simon across the table, ta ma de the fall out!

Mal watches the heat rise behind Jayne's eyes and he realises he's about to get treated to a show he'd rather not see, "Kaylee, you fixed those dampers yet? We got not a little bit of travellin' to do, need this boat in top shape!"

Kaylee doesn't even lift her head, simply shoves her chair back and stalks off down the corridor, hoping she's got her girl's engine humming loud enough before Simon starts begging for whatever Jayne's got stewing for him.

Throwing a hand in the air, she tries for nonchalance, but her voice comes out strained, pulled sharp and tight like a violin string, "Sure thing Captain, get right on that."

Zoe raises an eyebrow and frowns, not sure if she should be bodily churning at the thought of Simon and Jayne together, or picking up a pot of popcorn and watching the in flight entertainment, "Captain, you sure we shouldn't..."

Mal shakes his head ever so slightly, knowing it'll do no good to try and stop what is surely going to break his poor kitchen table. Better they get it out their systems now than in the wilds of the big black, and he can just burn every splinter of the abused piece of furniture after, "We got some flight plans to log, you comin'?"

Simon is mortified, absolutely mortified that the entire crew, including poor Kaylee, who he still holds a torch for but knows it splutters dull compared to whatever it is he's feeling for Jayne, know that he's about to get his ass ploughed by a man who before his descent into madness wouldn't have even registered, "Jayne you shanyáng shunxi jìnu, did you have to, really! Couldn't keep it locked down 'til we weren't surrounded by every member of the god damned crew!"

Jayne cocks his head and smirks, "See, I told ya you could cuss, s'not like you don't love the idea of little Kaylee hearin' you squealin' my name!"

A white hot cauterised needle slides neatly into Simon's spinning brain and he loses his grip; slams his chair back hard enough to crack a strut against the counter, "Shut your mouth, shut it now! You don't get to be like that about her, you don't!"

For a man of Jayne's size, he moves fast, fast enough that he's got a large calloused hand around Simon's throat before the doctor even realises his eyes are bulging and his airway is being crushed.

The calm in Jayne's voice doesn't belay the grip with which he's holding Simon on tiptoes, breath ghosting close enough to ruffle the younger man's eyelashes, "Don't I now? I thought I was good t'do whatever I liked with your pale white behind..."

Simon summons all his strength, pushes two fingers under Jayne's thumb and yanks backwards, far enough for the bones to crack, "Me, yes. Her, never! Oh, you might wanna look to putting some coolant on that hand when we're done here."

Jayne bites back the howl of pain, doesn't do to admit he's been knobbled by a man half his weight when dripping, but he does nod once in Simon's direction, showing that they do in fact have an understanding and he won't push his luck about the ship's sweet little mechanic again.

Taking the win for what it is, Simon leans his shoulders back against the counter and slides both hands down to his crotch, massaging the growing bulge between his legs, knowing that Jayne will be salivating at the thought of watching him get off, "You just gonna stand there big man, or you gonna finish what you tried to start in front of everyone else?"

Jayne puts no stock in foreplay, in the dance before the dance, all he wants is Simon's tight little ass bared and bobbing up and down on his painfully hard cock, a cock that's rubbing deliciously inside his trousers, catching every snag of cheap and tattered material, "Turn round, now!"

Simon's breath hitches in his throat as he squeezes his still cloth covered shaft, and he fights the urge to argue, just to see the whites of Jayne's eyes and the force with which he'll be taken, "Ask nicely..."

Jayne grins so wide his back teeth glint in the low light surrounding them and he lunges forward, huge hands gripping Simon's shoulders tight enough to bruise his tender flesh, "Turn round or kneel down, either way I'm sliding my cock home, your choice. And that's as nice as I get little man."

Simon shivers as his skin alternates between trying to crawl from his bones and breaking out in gooseflesh he's sure Jayne will be able to feel even through three layers, "What is it they say about beggars and choosers?"

Turning slowly, hands still gripping his weeping cock through his now sodden trousers, Simon wiggles his ass and chuckles, "I'm not doin' all your work for you, Jayne."

There's a moment of complete still, total vacuum, before Jayne is ripping at Simon's clothes, tearing and shredding them like paper on a parcel. He's fully aware the doctor will have to traipse back to his bunk with his butt hanging out and probably still dripping come down the backs of his bruised thighs, but that just fuels Jayne's need to grind up against the now utterly bare ass quivering before him.

Not even bothering to push down his own trousers, he yanks his cock from it's confines, pumps his hand along the shaft a couple of times, squeezing as much sticky viscous fluid into his palm as he can, before using his clean fingers to shove Simon's face against the cool counter, "Ready or not..."

Bracing for the sharpness of Jayne's always untrimmed nails, Simon bites down on his bottom lip, drawing blood that pools on his tongue, "Yesu cao, just get the fuck on with it would you!"

Jayne's working two fingers inside Simon, not caring that he's probably hurting him, knowing in fact that the usually buttoned up doctor likes a little pain with his party favours, when he feels the rhythmic jerking of an arm throwing off his already unsteady tempo, "None of that, quit it, I want you to come when _I'm_ ready, right?"

Simon groans low, swallows the rumble in his chest and slams both hands flat against the countertop, nails scraping against the already pitted surface. He's loathe to beg, but right now wild horses couldn't keep the pleas from falling like rain from his slackened mouth, "Please, Jayne, ta ma de, please!"

Simon's no where near ready but Jayne'll be frog humped if he can wait any longer, not when the tip of his cock is blood red and pulsing. Slipping his fingers from the sucking warmth with an audible _pop_ , he wipes them on the remains of the doctors ruined trousers.

Simon rolls his eyes even as he bodily follows the path of Jayne's fingers, "Chángjiàn yuán, plough me already!"

Nails digging half moons's into Simon's ass cheeks, Jayne spreads them wide, tight puckered hole still twitching in front of him, trying to grasp back the fingers no longer inside. With practiced ease, the older man slides his cock the full length of the doctors crack before snagging the tip on the edge of his only slightly loosened flesh.

Simon clenches his teeth so hard he all but goes through his bottom lip. Blood trickling down his chin, he slams himself backwards, not willing to wait for Jayne to push home.

It ain't gonna take Jayne long, not when there's a fresh wave of nauseating pleasure rolling down his spine like honey over a stack of flapjacks, and not when Simon's too tight hole is squeezing the life out of his pumping cock, "That's it, come on now, let me hear it, let me hear that filthy mouth of yours!"

Every touch, every graze of nail or slap of flesh comes rolling straight out of Simon's mouth, transformed from the slick sliding of wet heat into a string of cuss words that make Jayne's toes curl.

Simon lets go of his last inhibition, allows the feel of hard muscle pounding into him to obliterate thoughts of the line between himself and the man pushing him further and further towards the inky darkness, "Fuck, Jayne, I'm a Kuài lái hào yóu liúlàng hàn, a Jin xiao biao zi, just fuck me hard!"

There's a moment of blissful emptiness to Jayne's conniving mind as he feels the last vestiges of all reasonable thought flee from his head, and he's coming, hard! He's grinding himself like a puppy up a tree and he's got no care as to how he looks or what he sounds like, all he knows is Simon's cock is pulsing between his legs, shooting streams of opaque saltiness down the front of the counter, making his gloriously tight ass clamp down at a punishing rate, "FUCK, SIMON!"

Simon knows as Jayne slumps heavy against his sweat soaked back, that he'll pay for coming without being instructed, but that's okay, that's dandy, he's always up for a little push me pull you, long as Jayne doesn't do it when they're mid way through a meal next time!


End file.
